For weeks, it had been a matter of not if, but when—and on Memorial Day morning, Phil Neville’s time as head coach of the Portland Timbers finally came to an end.
Officially, Neville and the Timbers mutually agreed to part ways. But with the team sitting in 13th place in the Western Conference, on track for its joint-worst MLS season ever, it appeared Neville simply ran out of time to turn the Timbers into a contender.
That the Englishman got so long to establish himself in Portland, to puncture the narrative that he was a subpar coach who only received opportunities because of his status as a player and famous last name, was remarkable.
With Neville in charge, it felt like the Timbers had a hand tied behind their collective back. Neville wanted the Timbers to play aggressive, front-foot soccer, but over two-and-a-half years, his teams were far too open defensively far too often. Their attacking patterns of play were often disjointed. They were almost never more than the sum of their parts.
For Neville, though, when the Timbers lost—and even lost badly—it was never about tactics but rather about effort: the players weren’t trying hard enough, they weren’t competing with the requisite fire.
It was, after watching team after team play circles around the Timbers, difficult to believe. And even if Neville understood his task to be one of motivation, the results were increasingly unflattering.
Neville just didn’t have the quality to succeed as a manager in Portland. His quality, despite the doubts that greeted his arrival in the Northwest, was as a person.
Merritt Paulson, in a club statement, said that in nearly two decades owning the Timbers, “there are very few people I have enjoyed working with more than Phil Neville.” Members of the press corps, both in Portland and across the country, praised Neville’s accessibility, his candidness and energy.
Neville’s own statement in the press release announcing his departure was all class. He thanked Paulson and general manager Ned Grabavoy, his players, and, with his final words, the fans who by and large wanted him gone.
“To the Timbers Army—you are the reason I felt inspired to try and bring success to this club,” Neville said. “Keep getting behind the players and the club in this wonderful city. I will miss you all.”
Neville seemed sincere in his appreciation of the Timbers’ support, which he reiterated repeatedly in his two-and-a-half years in Portland. Shortly after arriving, he said Portland reminded him of Merseyside, the region of northwest England where he captained Everton, in its climate and passion for the game.
After years leading a pre-Lionel Messi Inter Miami team in front of sparse, indifferent crowds in Fort Lauderdale, Neville appeared to relish the opportunity to be part of a proper soccer town again. His own passion was evident on the sidelines, week after week.
On Saturday night, after the Timbers slunk to their first-ever MLS home defeat to the San Jose Earthquakes and the Timbers Army chanted for his dismissal, Neville didn’t sulk or shy away from the pressure. He sounded like a coach who wanted to win as badly as the fans chanting for his head did.
“It’s what we signed up for,” Neville said. “There’s no pity party for me. Those supporters deserve better than what we’ve given in these first 14 games.”
Neville’s admirable comportment, his desire to succeed in Portland, made it all the harder to watch him because it was so clear for so long that his tenure with the club would ultimately come to an ignominious end.
He simply did not have the coaching acumen to build a winning team, let alone a team that could challenge for championships. The Timbers, with a middling roster, were and are in need of an elite coach. He wasn’t even close.
What’s more, there was never any reason to believe he might be. There was nothing in Neville’s body of work in Miami to suggest he was anything beyond an average MLS manager, if that.
But the Timbers hired him anyway, and then gave him an exceptionally long time to prove himself. In the end, his record in Portland almost mirrored his record in South Florida: he coached 83 games in Miami and averaged 1.25 points per game; he coached 82 games in Portland and averaged 1.28.
Retaining Neville a third season after the Timbers limped to a ninth place finish last year and lost 4-0 to an expansion team in both their regular season and playoff finales was a decision almost certainly made more in hope than expectation.
It seemed like Paulson and Grabavoy were the last two people in town, perhaps the last two people anywhere, who watched the Timbers consistently and thought Neville might have the capacity to engineer a revival in fortunes.
Grabavoy, who hired Neville in the first place when his coaching résumé was so thin, will now lead another coaching search. He’ll have plenty of time to sift through potential options—the Timbers won’t play again until mid-July as MLS breaks for the World Cup.
To wit, the club has not named an interim head coach or announced the fates of any of Neville’s staff members. Tom Bogert of The Athletic reported Monday that the Timbers hope to have a permanent manager in place when they next take the field in Seattle, though that could change.
It remains to be seen just how attractive the Timbers job might be to potential candidates. There are several MLS jobs currently open, and the crop of candidates Neville emerged from in the winter of 2023 was not exactly overwhelming.
Grabavoy must, you figure, get this hire right. The Timbers have been mired in mediocrity for the better part of five years, their worst stretch, by some distance, in their MLS existence. Everything about the Neville experience—from his hiring to the length of his tenure—suggested that the standards at Providence Park have plummeted.
The upcoming summer should allow some measure of insight into not only how the club is approaching the rest of the 2026 season, but where it is headed in the years to come.
As for Neville, soccer is a brutal business—one where it often matters little how you treat people and very much how many games you win. He exceeded expectations as a person. As a coach, it was long past time for the Timbers to move on.
